The third, my big brother…the one with the unfortunate luck of being raised by our mother.  Not that our mother is inherently bad.  On the contrary.  As a child, she was neglected and abused repeatedly by the people around her. She too had an alcoholic mother (and her mother had an alcoholic mother).  She had nowhere to turn and found drugs and alcohol as her savior.  This is how she describes it…she was suicidal and homicidal, and the drugs and alcohol saved her from those 2 paths.  She found herself pregnant at 20 years old.  The father wanting nothing to do with the baby…

~

After Rena’s passing, I found my purpose at the greenhouse waning.  It had come out that men with the same education and the same experience, were being paid significantly more than the women.  It was time to go.

I was immediately offered a new job where I was paid nearly twice what I had been making.  It was a pretty empowering time as far as the material world was concerned.  I didn’t have to worry anymore about the power being shut off…having to make it into some sort of fun game for my daughter, so that she wouldn’t have to worry.  All of our bills were paid on time, and I was even able to provide her with some of our own vacation memories.  It felt like such a blessing!

I was still going to meetings and still being a human…making mistakes and doing some things right too.  Externally, it was a busy time.  Internally, I was quiet…still grieving Betsy and now Rena and John.

Also, always when the busyness stopped, he was there…like a phantom…haunting my life.

~

My older brother is someone that I always looked up to from afar. He has one of the most intelligent minds I have ever encountered in my lifetime. The way he carries himself is always upright with his head high, not in a cocky way. In a way that leaves the impression of lessons learned and knowledge gained. For the people closest to him, myself included, the word “honorable” comes to mind…

We were not always close per se in our everyday lives.  He is 10 years older than me, and we grew up in different households after my dad left. I know that my dad wished that he could have taken him with us, but he wasn’t his biological father. There was nothing he could do. 

I lived with my mother sporadically through my addiction and sometimes my brother would be living with her at the same time.  He really couldn’t stomach me then.  I’m guessing because of everything he went through as a child. 

For a number of years, he walked the path of crime in other ways, not at all knowing how to process the trauma he experienced in his own life.  I recently learned that, like my mother, he too was brutalized as a child…brutalized in every way a child can be. No exaggeration.  As the chains in this side of the family continued to link…

When I was 15, I woke up one day on a couch at a friend’s house.  I had a horrible hangover.  The sun was just starting to come up and the birds had just started chirping.  The TV was on low, and the news was on.  Suddenly, my brother was on the screen.  He was in an orange jumpsuit and handcuffs, being led somewhere by an officer.  I kept blinking, thinking it must be a dream.  It wasn’t.  He would spend 2 years in jail that time.

While he was in there, he seemed to have gotten the help that he needed.  He found God and was determined to live a good life and take responsibility for his actions.  He worked his way through the obstacles of being a convicted felon and, eventually, got a good job making decent money.  He married a woman who came from a wonderful family, and they loved him.  Together, they had a son.  For the first time in his life, he experienced unconditional love and what a family environment was like.  Though the marriage ultimately failed, being a father to his son was the most important thing to him.  He never wanted that little boy to go through any of what he went through in this life.  He was determined there too…

As I got and stayed sober, we became close in a way that, even though we didn’t see each other all the time, we each knew we could count on the other if we ever needed it.  There was love.  He would come to my daughter’s birthday parties and we would attend his son’s.  He had met another woman who had a child of her own.  They appeared content and in love, forging their own family.

I received a text from my brother one day.  He told me that he had cancer and the treatments were getting bad.  He said that he needed help with his dogs, and I was the only person he could trust.  It was an honor to hear that he trusted me in that way after all we had been through, but I was confused.  I had seen him 2 months prior at my daughter’s roller-skating party, and he looked great.  I had no idea that he was so sick.

Shortly after, I went to his apartment to visit him.  He was not well.  It was painful to see.  He could no longer eat and was going to need to undergo surgery to get a feeding tube inserted.  This, once, big guy covered in tattoos, now weak and soft spoken.  Worried for his son. Sad to be separated from his dogs. Scared of what was going to happen… 

With the future uncertain…very little matters…

A few days later, he and his girlfriend brought the dogs to our home.  We spent some time together that day and we each cried, while trying to remain optimistic.         

When he completed the chemotherapy and radiation, he needed another surgery to remove all the infected lymph nodes.  It was a big deal and would determine the course of his future…

I was in contact with his girlfriend and was heading to the hospital that morning.  I remember that it was warm out, but dark and pouring down rain.  As I walked to my car, there was a baby bunny lying next to the sidewalk shivering uncontrollably and getting soaked…

“When viewing their physical attributes, the Rabbit comes to represent a prayerful life as it puts its paws in prayer position each time they wash their faces…”

I tried to dry him off and keep him warm.  I ran to the nearest pet store and bought him a bottle.  I fed him and placed him in a large box with towels to snuggle. A part of me wanted to stay with him, but I couldn’t.  I had to get to my brother…

When I arrived at the hospital, his girlfriend was sitting there anxiously.  He had been under for hours and hours with no word on his condition.  (I always liked her, but this is when I loved her)…finally the surgeon called.  He said that my brother was ok, and the surgery was successful.  She immediately started sobbing in relief.  I could feel the love pouring out of her.  It was beautiful.

When I arrived home late that night, I found that the baby bunny had not survived…

Some time passed and my brother started to get stronger little by little.  He talked to me about marrying his girlfriend.  Initially, it was not something he wanted as he already had one failed marriage. However, after being together for years, it was something she wanted badly.  After he saw the way she stood by his side through cancer, he proposed.

They were married a short time later in an intimate ceremony at a chapel.  I don’t think there was a dry eye in the place.  If there were ever two people deserving and destined for a happy ending, it felt as if it was them.  At the reception, I remember the heartfelt joy permeating the space…their children laughing.  After all he had pulled through in life, to see him beside a woman I knew loved him was a gift to behold. I was so deeply happy for my brother…

The echo of the laughter…a recurring thought that’s hard to make sense of now…